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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764037">Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriefirefly/pseuds/faeriefirefly'>faeriefirefly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Attempt at Humor, Enabled by a Waffle, Fluff, Gratuitous Descriptions of Katsudon, Hot Springs Magic, M/M, Shameless Smut, bed sharing, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:35:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriefirefly/pseuds/faeriefirefly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuri ran through the locker room, looking around wildly as he slid into the indoor baths and—</p>
<p>Well. Nothing. No flash of pale skin or silver hair, only the confused stares of the regulars meeting his gaze. He couldn’t believe it, even though it could be no one else with the way that oh-so-familiar standard poodle had knocked him down and his father had said good-looking foreign guest in that particular tone of voice. Yuuri had to see for himself, now. <em>Otousan</em> had said in the hot spring, so he must be in the outdoor bath. Yuuri darted for the door to the outdoor enclosure, slipping in his socks. The glass was too foggy to see through, as usual, so he threw the door open and—</p>
<p>Still nothing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you, oh so much, to Waffle and Tutti for cheering and reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri ran through the locker room, looking around wildly as he slid into the indoor baths and—</p>
<p>Well. Nothing. No flash of pale skin or silver hair, only the confused stares of the regulars meeting his gaze. He couldn’t believe it, even though it could be no one else with the way that oh-so-familiar standard poodle had knocked him down and his father had said good-looking foreign guest in that particular tone of voice. Yuuri had to see for himself, now. <em>Otousan</em> had said in the hot spring, so he must be in the outdoor bath. Yuuri darted for the door to the outdoor enclosure, slipping in his socks. The glass was too foggy to see through, as usual, so he threw the door open and—</p>
<p>Still nothing.</p>
<p>Deflating for a moment, Yuuri took off his glasses to wipe them with the hem of his undershirt, thinking as he put them back where they belonged. Where could he have gone? Surely he hadn’t left somehow, not with his dog still there, and Yuuri couldn’t have missed him in his mad dash to the men’s baths, he didn’t think. Had he slipped into the dining room unnoticed? Yuuri’s adrenaline-fueled excitement and panic faded and he sighed, turning to trek back through the baths and check the dining room. The sound of a small splash made Yuuri pause, frowning and turning back to the hot spring. No one was there and it was too cold for a frog or a turtle to hop in; had a kappa found its way into the baths? It happened on occasion and Yuuri should run it off if that was the case.</p>
<p>Another small splash, then Yuuri swore he heard his name. Frowning even more, he looked around, the snow and steam mixing with the haze of magic from the spring and obscuring his vision.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!”</p>
<p>It was unmistakable this time, if faint, and sounded like it was coming from the bath itself. Yuuri scanned the area, taking a few steps forward. Then, Yuuri finally saw him, swimming through the water of the modest outdoor bath like it was an Olympic-sized pool. “V-Viktor?” he stammered as his knees gave out and he sat down heavily. “What are you doing— How did you— Why are you so small?”</p>
<p>Viktor Nikiforov swam straight for him, his signature silver hair slicked back, the strong muscles of his shoulders working with every sure stroke slicing through the water. It was Viktor, certainly: not only did it look like him, Yuuri could feel the distinct aura of his magic coming closer. He was just…a lot smaller than usual. No wonder Yuuri hadn’t seen or felt his presence at first. The magic of the hot spring must have interacted with Viktor’s innate magic somehow with a highly unusual result. Viktor made it to the edge of the bath, gripping one of the flat stones lining it with his tiny fingers. “Yuuri! Could you lend me a hand?”</p>
<p>Yuuri scrambled forward on hands and knees, staring down at his miniature idol. The lip of the bath was a much bigger obstacle at Viktor’s small size, and he was surely tired out from all that swimming. He reached down and Viktor grabbed his forefinger with both hands. Well, that wasn’t going to work—he couldn’t hoist Viktor up and dangle him like an aerial artist. What if he slipped, if something happened to the living legend? Yuuri would never forgive himself. He reached down with his other hand and cupped Viktor’s tiny bottom.</p>
<p>That was naked.</p>
<p>Of course, because they were in the baths. Yuuri felt his face burn beet red as he gently lifted Viktor from the water and set him on the ground.        </p>
<p>Viktor settled himself gracefully, then gestured with a grand flourish. “Yuuri, starting today, I’m your coach! I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.” He winked, the gorgeous blue of his eyes barely visible at this size, a small smirk playing over his lips, suaver than Yuuri would ever be even entirely naked and standing only twenty-five centimeters tall. Then he promptly ruined it with a sneeze.</p>
<p>Yuuri laughed. He couldn’t help it. The whirlwind of emotions from the last few minutes needed an escape, so instead of freaking out over having just touched Viktor’s very naked doll-sized body, he laughed long and loud.</p>
<p>“Yuuriiii,” Viktor whined, a pout on his perfect face. “It’s not funny!”</p>
<p>Wheezing and snorting, Yuuri tried to reel in his laughter, only to fail when Viktor huffed and stomped his tiny foot. Another peal rang out, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he choked out between giggles, covering his face with his hands. “’s not funny.” He peeked at Viktor again through his fingers. “Except it kind of is.”</p>
<p>Viktor rolled his eyes dramatically and let out a sigh. Then a full-body shiver wracked his frame.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s laughter evaporated instantly. “I’m sorry, really. It’s just—you’re here and you’re tiny and you’re somehow managing to be all cool and confident and sexy even though…” He trailed off as he looked around for a towel but didn’t see one. Viktor must have lost his in the bath when he shrank. “Wait here just a second and I’ll—”</p>
<p>“You think I’m sexy, Yuuri?” Viktor interrupted with a purr in his voice and a gleam in his eye, even as a shiver shook him again.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes went wide behind his glasses.<em> Kuso.</em> “I mean—”</p>
<p>“Flirting with your coach already, hmm?” He walked a few small steps closer and looked up at him through silver lashes, lush despite being so little. “Well, I don’t mind. I think you’re pretty sexy yourself, Yuur-a-a-achoo!”</p>
<p>The effect was ruined again and Yuuri couldn’t help but giggle even as his inner fanboy squealed, but the bigger issue was Viktor’s tiny body trembling in the cold. “Come on; let’s get you inside before you freeze.” He reached down to Viktor again, and his idol snuggled up to his hand, hugging his thumb as Yuuri carefully lifted him and cradled him close to his chest. Until he started squirming a split second later. “Wait, what are you— Viktor!”</p>
<p>Blue eyes turned up to him as Viktor chirped, “What? It looks cozy in there!” then continued to try to wiggle his way into Yuuri’s shirt pocket.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay! Just stop squirming before I drop you!” Yuuri held his pocket open and let Viktor climb into it. The fabric barely covered Viktor’s lower half, but he managed to sit down and folded his arms atop the pocket panel. Hopefully, the hammering of Yuuri’s heart in his chest wouldn’t bother him too much.</p>
<p>Viktor was quiet as Yuuri walked as smoothly as he could back through the door, the indoor baths, and the locker room, trying his best not to jostle Viktor. Yuuri was quiet, too, racking his brain. He'd have to ask <em>Okaasan</em> and <em>Otousan</em> about what to do. He and Mari had grown up hearing stories of the spring’s magic, mostly from <em>Baachan</em> before she passed away, but he’d never heard of anything like this happening. The spring usually brought good fortune; it was a big part of why their <em>onsen</em> was still standing after all the others in town had slowly shuttered their doors. The worst he could remember was the story of the mean-spirited official whose skin had turned green every time he came until he finally decided to visit a non-magical spring.</p>
<p>Yuuri rounded the corner to the dining room, searching for his parents. “<em>Okaasan</em>,” he called when he spotted her at the counter.</p>
<p>His mother turned, smile big and bright on her face as she started chattering away in Japanese. “Did you find Viktoru-san? He’s so handsome, and Makkachan looks just like our Vicchan, doesn’t she? But so big!” So his father had told her about Viktor, then, or she’d seen him before she’d even asked Yuuri to shovel snow.</p>
<p>“<em>Okaasan</em>,” Yuuri interrupted before she could continue, “Viktor needs help. Look!” He gestured to his pocket, where a tiny Viktor waved up at his mother, a slight furrow to his brow but a smile on his lips. Ah, he probably didn’t understand any of what they were saying; Yuuri would have to translate. “He shrank in the baths.”</p>
<p>“Oh dear!” she gasped, following with, “Viktoru-san little! Cute!” in English.</p>
<p>Viktor’s smile grew bigger. “Thank you!”</p>
<p>“<em>Okaasan</em>, do you have any idea what happened? Or how to fix it?” Yuuri asked in his native tongue, the subject surely too complex for his mother’s limited English.</p>
<p>“No, no, we haven’t had any magic like this from the spring in ages, not since I was a little girl. Nearly everyone who visits is local, and their magic is all familiar and similar. Viktoru-san’s magic feels different, from what I can feel anyway. It’s very slight.”</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded. “Yes, I had trouble feeling it, too. Probably because he’s small?”</p>
<p>“Yes, probably. It would take a while to check the old records, but from what I remember, it should wear off soon as long as he stays out of the spring.”</p>
<p>“How long is soon, do you think?”</p>
<p><em>Okaasan</em> hummed, then replied, “Anywhere from a few hours to a few days, I’d imagine.”</p>
<p>Yuuri groaned, looking down at Viktor and summarizing, “You could be small for a few hours or a few days. It’s been a long time since anyone’s magic has reacted with the hot spring so we’re not sure.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, okay!” Viktor didn’t seem fazed by the news, still smiling up at Yuuri and his mother. He appeared much less perturbed than Yuuri, let alone than if Yuuri was in his situation—he’d probably be having a panic attack if that was the case. But maybe Viktor was used to his magic acting up.   </p>
<p>“Is there anything he can wear until he’s back to normal?” Yuuri asked his mother.</p>
<p>“I’ll find something. You two just sit tight. Are you boys hungry? Your father can make you some lunch.”</p>
<p>Yuuri translated for Viktor, who responded with a resounding, “Yes!”</p>
<p>“Thank you, <em>Okaasan</em>,” Yuuri said as she bustled off, then he headed to the kitchen with Viktor still riding in his pocket.</p>
<p>They found Yuuri’s father already at work, Makkachin at his heels. He murmured to her as he chopped and cooked, and Yuuri felt his heart clench as he remembered Vicchan sneaking into the kitchen to be <em>Otousan’s </em>silent shadow, underfoot but never unwelcome, no matter how much his father blustered. Makkachin turned as they entered, boofing but not moving from <em>Otousan’s</em> side, making him look up from his pan and smile in greeting.</p>
<p>“Ready for lunch, Yuuri? I thought Viktoru-san would be hungry after his travels. I’m making him something light.”</p>
<p>“Sounds good, <em>Otousan</em>, but you don’t have to make much. Viktor’s magic interacted with the spring’s and he shrank.” His father looked over in surprise before his eyes found Viktor, who was waving from Yuuri’s pocket. “<em>Okaasan</em> is getting him something to wear.”</p>
<p><em>Otousan</em> nodded at Viktor, then turned his attention back to the vegetables sizzling in the pan. “Huh, haven’t seen anything like that in a long time. Hope it wears off soon.”   </p>
<p>“Me too,” Yuuri sighed, then switched back to English to tell Viktor lunch would be ready shortly.</p>
<p>“It smells delicious,” Viktor replied. Makkachin looked over at the sound of his voice but stayed put.</p>
<p>Yuuri got their plates ready, scooping steaming rice from the cooker into bowls and grabbing chopsticks as well as a fork for Viktor, until he realized the tiny man wouldn’t be able to use it. Viktor would just have to eat with his hands for now. Yuuri made to put the fork back but paused and got a knife instead; Viktor would need much smaller bites. He arranged a spoonful of rice on a small saucer, sure someone would eat the other bowl if he didn’t, just in time for <em>Otousan</em> to plate the vegetables and chicken.</p>
<p>Viktor watched both Yuuri and <em>Otousan</em> curiously but quietly, until a yawn sounded from Yuuri’s pocket. He’d surely had a long flight, even if he was able to fly direct to Fukuoka, followed by another hour or so traveling by train. Using magic, intentionally or not, was tiring, too, plus he’d swum the equivalent of several laps in the bath. Though he was working quickly and efficiently as always, Yuuri hurried to place the dishes and utensils on a tray, then headed out to the dining room. He called a thank you to his father as he passed through the curtain. Makkachin followed at his heels, surely following the fragrant meal rather than her owner.      </p>
<p>Thankfully, though it wasn’t good for business, the dining room crowd was sparse, but he settled at the screened off table in the farthest corner just in case. They didn’t need curious patrons gawking at Viktor, no matter how politely they would do so. Or impolitely, as most of the patrons had been regulars for years and their faces were almost as familiar at the <em>onsen</em> as Yuuri’s own family’s. He laid out their place settings—well, his own plate and bowl next to Viktor’s small dish—then held out his hand to Viktor, who had stood up in his pocket and was starting to clamber over the edge. Yuuri couldn’t believe how carefree his idol was. Yes, you had to take risks in figure skating, but they were calculated, mitigated by years of training and experience. How could Viktor be so nonchalant about his small stature and potentially falling the equivalent of several meters to the floor?!</p>
<p>Yuuri carefully set Viktor down on the table. Makkachin gave her owner a curious sniff, making him giggle and pat her nose with a miniature hand, but was much more interested in the chicken in front of her, though she was well behaved enough not to make a grab for it. Viktor strode over to his saucer, shamelessly sitting down cross-legged in front of it, his tiny bare butt directly on the polished wood of the table and his tiny junk on full display. Yuuri groaned internally at the sight, rolling his eyes to the heavens and asking his ancestors to forgive him.       </p>
<p>Viktor clapped, his eyes shining with delight as Yuuri carefully diced a chunk of chicken and one of each vegetable into even smaller pieces, adding them to Viktor’s saucer. He grabbed a carrot cube, large in his tiny palm, and took a bite like it was an apple. <em>“Vkusno!” </em>he exclaimed, beaming and finishing off the rest of the carrot with gusto. He closed his eyes and moaned in his enjoyment, sighing happily as he licked sauce off his fingers, making Yuuri blush even though the absurd situation had made him comfortable with the living legend in record time.  </p>
<p>Tearing his eyes away from Viktor with difficulty, Yuuri began on his own lunch. His father’s cooking was always delicious, no matter how many times he’d eaten the same dish. Viktor seemed to think the same, concentrating on his meal with single-minded focus. It echoed his attitude on the ice, blinders blocking out everything but his program while he was skating; maybe Viktor approached everything in life like that. Yuuri watched out of the corner of his eye as Viktor ate the rice like potato chips, popping the short grains into his mouth one at a time, and shredded strands off the chicken to eat it more easily.</p>
<p>As they both finished their meal, <em>Okaasan</em> came back into the dining room with perfect timing. Yuuri thought it was part of her magic, nearly always being in the right place at the right time, but she’d never been tested. Like most of their family, she had the innate magic born of working so closely with the springs and not much else, nothing showy enough to warrant testing. She scanned the room and headed over to their table as soon as she spotted them, pulling something small and green from her apron pocket. She presented it to Viktor, saying in English, “Vicchan, for you!”</p>
<p>So he was Vicchan already. Quick, but not unusually so for his ever-welcoming mother. Viktor took the clothes as his mother averted her eyes, giggling and blushing like a schoolgirl at his unabashed nakedness. They were all used to nudity, working at the <em>onsen</em>, but it wasn’t usually proudly on display like this. Considering that overwhelmed blushing was pretty much how Yuuri reacted to the handsome if height-hindered man in front of him in the outdoor bath, he had no room to talk. Viktor unfolded the clothes, shaking them out to put them on, and Yuuri realized he was holding a miniature <em>jinbei</em> set, just like the ones the full-sized<em> onsen</em> guests wore. His mother must have made them from a scrap of the worn<em> jinbei </em>they kept to turn into rags.   </p>
<p>Viktor stepped into the trousers and shrugged on the jacket, adjusting the belt around his waist and somehow managing to tie the top so it dipped low and showed off his chiseled chest before trilling, “<em>Arigatou</em>, Hiroko-san!”</p>
<p>“Welcome, Vicchan!” his mother replied just as happily, clasping her hands in front of her and giving a happy little wiggle. “Still hungry?”</p>
<p>“No, no,” Viktor proclaimed. He rubbed his stomach and hummed happily. “I’ve had plenty. Everything was so good!”</p>
<p>“Good!” <em>Okaasan</em> echoed. “Yuuri,” she continued in Japanese, “Let me know if Vicchan needs anything else, okay dear?” Yuuri nodded, bowing his own thanks, and his mother waved goodbye to them both, bustling back to work.</p>
<p>Yuuri began clearing their things from the table, piling the dishes up on the tray while Viktor stretched and yawned widely. Makkachin nosed him gently, finally interested in her owner now that the food was gone. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at the sight as Viktor hugged her curly face with both arms stretched wide and cooed at the giant beast in his arms. “I’m going to run these back to the kitchen,” he said, holding up the tray. “You think you’ll be ok out here for a minute?”</p>
<p>Viktor looked over, still buried in Makkachin’s curly fur. “We’ll be just fine, Yuuri. Won’t we Makka?” He devolved into what could only be Russian baby talk, and Yuuri chuckled before walking away.</p>
<p>By the time he got back to the table, Viktor was no longer there. Yuuri looked around frantically for a moment before spotting Makkachin behind the table, Viktor curled up into her fluffy side as she lay on the floor, both soundly asleep. Viktor had somehow managed to make it to the <em>tatami</em> without hurting himself and must have promptly passed out, his eventful day apparently catching up with him.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s mind raced, examining the situation from every angle now that he was no longer distracted by Viktor’s immediate needs. His heart raced, too, as he thought about the man he’d looked up to for so long being in his family home, wearing the <em>onsen jinbei</em>, eating his father’s food. He found it hard to believe Viktor was actually there, despite the evidence being right in front of his face, sleeping on the dining room floor. Yuuri knew he needed to keep himself busy, lest his mind go spinning off into wild tangents that would eventually send him into a spiral of anxiety and panic. He resolved to go shovel the snow, though he suspected the request was just a ploy to get him out of bed, then help Mari with her chores. He could check in on Viktor and Makkachin every so often, but it didn’t look like they’d be waking up any time soon.</p>
<p>A few hours had passed by the time Yuuri had finished shoveling and helped Mari with laundry and unloading the liquor delivery. He’d checked in on Viktor and Makkachin several times, finding them asleep in various, sometimes hilarious, positions each time. Viktor spread-eagle on his back with his mouth hanging open as Makkachin’s breath wafted over him and blew his fringe out of his face with each exhale was particularly amusing.</p>
<p>Yuuri sat in <em>seiza</em> on the other side of the table, watching Viktor in wonder. He felt a bit more settled, the physical exertion helping to calm his mind as it always did, though skating figures always worked best. His relief was short-lived, as he soon heard Minako-sensei’s voice echoing through the dining room.  </p>
<p>“Yuuri! Is it true? Viktor Nikiforov is here?! They say he came to coach you!”</p>
<p>Yuuri shushed her as she came into the dining room, hoping she wouldn’t wake Viktor and Makkachin. “Yes, Minako-sensei, he’s here, but he soaked in the hot springs and ate, and now he’s napping.” He gestured to the sleeping man sprawled over the poodle’s side.</p>
<p>His ballet teacher gasped as she came behind the screen, her eagle eyes lighting on his tiny idol immediately. “Yuuri!” she whisper-shouted. “Oh my God! What happened to him?! Did the springs do that?” She shook her head and started speaking again before he could answer. “Viktor Nikiforov is here! It’s big news in Russia. He was planning to take the next season off, plan his next move. They say when he saw that video of you skating, he was struck by inspiration and decided to be your coach. He chose you, Yuuri! You brought him here. That’s incredible!”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes widened. He knew what Viktor had said, of course, and was starting to get used to the idea of him being here, though he hadn’t thought much about Viktor’s proclamation yet, but from what Minako-sensei was saying, it was already public knowledge. Everyone knew Viktor was there. For him. His mind started to race again, panic threatening to set in, but was interrupted by Viktor sneezing and sitting up slowly.</p>
<p>“Hungry,” he said sleepily, his top artfully falling off one smooth, creamy shoulder. Yuuri had no idea how he managed it, just like he’d shown off his chest earlier, but it was undeniably attractive.   </p>
<p>Minako-sensei’s eyes widened and she slanted Yuuri a look as she snorted. “Well. I don’t think he came all the way here just to coach you, did he?”</p>
<p>Yuuri sent a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening that Viktor really didn’t understand any Japanese, surprised Minako hadn’t wolf whistled or at least cackled with her words. To change the subject, he hastily asked Viktor, “What would you like to eat?”</p>
<p>“As your coach, I’d like to know what your favorite food is, Yuuri,” he replied, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep and his voice rough.</p>
<p>If Yuuri didn’t know any better, he would agree with Minako-sensei and say Viktor had come here to do more than coach him. But he did know better. <em>What about what happened outside the bath?</em> a little voice whispered in his head. He tamped it down. Viktor must just be an incorrigible flirt. He rushed to say, “<em>Katsudon</em>! My favorite food is <em>katsudon</em>.” At Viktor’s blank look, he added, “Pork cutlet bowl. It’s served over rice, with egg and onion.”</p>
<p>Viktor nodded, flopping back over onto Makkachin and closing his eyes. Yuuri shot a sharp glance at Minako-sensei, who raised her brows and widened her eyes innocently, batting her lashes at him. He scrambled to his feet and all but ran into the kitchen, intent on asking his father to make <em>katsudon</em> and hurrying back to the table before Minako-sensei could sink her claws into Viktor.</p>
<p>A few short moments later, Yuuri heard a faint whoop and looked up just in time to see Makkachin blur into the kitchen. Viktor had managed to climb on her neck, riding her like a huge horse as he clung to her curls with a white-knuckled grip. His eyes sparkled and he laughed as they skidded to a stop before calling out, “Toshiya-san! One <em>katusdon</em>, please!”</p>
<p>“Yes, Vicchan!” <em>Otousan</em> replied, laughing along with Viktor as he gave him a thumbs up. His heart must not be in his throat like Yuuri’s; his father was always so easygoing. And apparently Viktor was already Vicchan to everyone. “ASAP, okay?”</p>
<p>Viktor gave his own thumbs up. “Okay!”        </p>
<p><em>Otousan</em> immediately measured out the oil to begin heating in his favorite frying pan. Both Makkachin and Viktor watched his father start to prepare the dish with rapt expressions, the former’s tail wagging happily as she panted.  </p>
<p>Now that Makkachin was back in the kitchen, Yuuri doubted he’d get her out again until the <em>katsudon</em> was finished. He silently debated his options: he could stay in there and help cook, and hopefully keep Viktor and Makka out of trouble; or he could go back out to the dining room and face the inevitable interrogation awaiting him in the form of his dance teacher. The choice was easy, especially considering the lack of self-preservation instinct Viktor had exhibited thus far. Which was promptly exhibited once more as Makkachin seated herself with a heavy plop and Viktor flailed as he slid down her back, his hold on her curls having apparently loosened.</p>
<p>Yuuri quickly knelt beside the poodle and halted Viktor’s slide with a hand cupped behind his back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why don’t you come back up here? You’re going to fall off and break your neck.”</p>
<p>Blue eyes narrowed up at him and a smirk played over Viktor’s face as he nodded. “Yes, Yuuri, we should stay together. I need to learn everything about you.” Yuuri barely restrained a snort but couldn’t help rolling his eyes at Viktor’s seductive tone, which Viktor clearly caught, his smirk turning into a pout. “I’m serious, Yuuri. Before we start practicing, let’s build some trust in our relationship. What kind of rink do you skate at? What’s in this city? Are there more magical hotspots? Or fun places to go on a date?”</p>
<p>Yuuri did snort this time, happy his father was engrossed in pounding a piece of pork paper thin and not paying attention to what Viktor said—<em>Otousan</em> definitely knew the word date. He once again picked up his idol and settled him in the pocket of his sweater, before answering, “I think we should focus on getting you back to normal before you check out the local dating scene, Viktor.”</p>
<p>“Yuuriiii!” The whined word stretched up from his pocket, Viktor’s spindly arms still clinging to Yuuri’s thumb gripping tighter, but before Viktor could say anything more, Yuuri shushed him and gently disentangled his hand. He set to work, cracking an egg and beating it, prepping the flour and panko in shallow dishes, then peeling the skin from an onion. Tears pricked in Yuuri’s eyes and nose as he sliced it into thin strips, and he heard little sniffles coming from his pocket.</p>
<p>“Sorry, but I promise it’s worth it,” he reassured Viktor, who looked up at him with wet, pink eyes and nodded. He set the onions within <em>Otousan’s</em> reach and started on the sauce as his father began breading the cutlets. They worked in harmony, Yuuri simmering the dashi, mirin, sugar, and soy sauce while his father fried the pork to a crispy golden brown.</p>
<p>Then it all came together. <em>Otousan</em> ladled the sauce into another pan and added the onions, letting them sizzle together for a moment, a divine aroma wafting through the kitchen, before placing a sliced cutlet on top. Yuuri beat another egg and<em> Otousan</em> poured it over the pork and sauce, and they all watched, nearly drooling (well, Makkachin was drooling, actually, and Yuuri couldn’t blame her) as the liquid set, almost custard like, coating the cutlet in a rich mixture of egg and sauce and onion. Yuuri scooped rice into a large bowl and held it steady as <em>Otousan</em> slid the contents of the pan perfectly atop the steaming white grains.</p>
<p>A soft “Wow,” floated up from Yuuri’s pocket, Viktor echoing Yuuri’s thoughts perfectly. Yuuri could make <em>katsudon</em> in his sleep but it never tasted as good as his father’s. Maybe that was part of <em>Otousan’s</em> magic: making the perfect <em>katsudon</em>.</p>
<p>Yuuri put the bowl on a tray, along with chopsticks and a knife and another small saucer for Viktor. Yuuri thanked his father and so did Viktor, his beaming, “<em>Arigatou!”</em> met with a “<em>Doumo doumo</em>,” as <em>Otousan</em> smiled just as widely, his eyes crinkled almost closed behind his glasses.</p>
<p>They headed back to the dining room, Makkachin on Yuuri’s heels. A sake-fortified Minako still sat at the table, lying in wait, eyes tracking Yuuri across the room and daring him to sit elsewhere. Yuuri headed toward her, hoping Viktor and Makkachin would be enough of a distraction to avoid Minako’s questioning. He again asked whatever gods were listening for a favor, to please let him get through dinner unscathed. He sat across from Minako, kneeling and placing the tray on the table before gently pulling Viktor from his pocket and setting him down. Minako just watched, one brow raised, as Yuuri diced a strip of pork into tiny pieces, spooning a bit of everything onto Viktor’s small saucer. Makkachin watched Yuuri, too, big black eyes begging for a bite.</p>
<p>Viktor immediately popped a bit of pork into his mouth. His eyes widened as it hit his palate, surprised delight washing over his face. An excited “<em>Vkusno!</em>” left his lips and he immediately shoveled in another bite, then another. “Delicious!” he said through his mouthful, “Too good for words! Is this what God eats?”</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, saying, “I’m glad you like it,” and lifting a bite to his own lips. The crispy pork and savory sauce burst over his tongue, and he closed his eyes as he chewed, silently agreeing with Viktor that <em>Otousan’s katsudon</em> really was too good for words.  </p>
<p>Then Minako spoke, a smirk on her face. “Yuuri gains weight easily, so he was only allowed to eat it when he won a competition. Right?”</p>
<p>Yuuri shot her a glare but Viktor piped up from below before he could reply. “Oh? So have you eaten <em>katsudon</em> recently?”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes. I eat it often.” Yuuri nodded, smiling down at Viktor, not realizing he was walking into a trap.</p>
<p>Viktor tilted his head and smiled back up at him, saccharine sweet. “Why? You haven’t won anything.” Yuuri’s smile dropped off his face and he squirmed under Viktor’s scrutiny. “With that piggy body of yours, lessons would be meaningless. You need to get back to your weight at last year’s Grand Prix Final at least…or I can never coach you. Until then, no more <em>katsudon.</em> Okay, <em>svinushka</em>?”</p>
<p>Yuuri blinked down at Viktor incredulously, certain he should be offended. What did Viktor even call him? He looked over to Minako, who somehow kept her mouth shut even as she continued to smirk; he was sure it was much better that way. Yuuri looked back down at Viktor, trying to process and come up with a reply, if not a retort.</p>
<p>But then Mari called from the doorway. “Hey, this luggage and stuff is in the way.”</p>
<p>Yuuri glanced at Viktor, engrossed in his <em>katsudon</em>, then stood, walking over to his sister. He peeked behind her and saw the hall filled with shipping boxes. What on earth…? “Where did all these CedEx boxes come from?”</p>
<p>“Oh great, my things came already!” Viktor must have yelled at the top of his tiny lungs to be heard from the far table, barely audible at such a distance. “Can you take them to the room where I’ll be staying?”</p>
<p>Yuuri repeated, “Where you’ll be staying?” rather incredulously, and before he knew it, he was roped into carrying what seemed to the be the entire contents of Viktor’s apartment upstairs to the seldom-used banquet room.</p>
<p>Right next to his room.</p>
<p>And all while Viktor continued to eat his <em>katsudon</em>, sharing a table with Minako.</p>
<p>Yuuri hurried, taking the stairs as fast as he could without tripping. His thighs and glutes burned; he didn’t even think he was <em>that</em> out of shape but running the stairs so many times he lost count, with added weight at that, made him feel every extra gram. What even was all this stuff? Why did Viktor need a marble bust, of all things, and why bring it with him to Hasetsu if he did? Viktor had packed so very much, more than one would for even an extended vacation, no matter how wealthy or materialistic or purportedly “extra” one happened to be. Yuuri still hadn’t had time to process what was happening, not really, but he felt hopeful at the realization, that Viktor truly did plan to stay and coach him for a while. A little bubble of happiness settled in his heart at the thought.</p>
<p>Having finally gotten the last box upstairs, Yuuri raced back down to rescue Viktor from Minako’s clutches. As he skidded around the corner, he saw his mother smiling happily and chatting with Minako and Viktor as she cleared the table, slipping a slice of his uneaten <em>katsudon</em> to Makkachin as she did. Yuuri briefly mourned the <em>katsudon</em> that would go to waste, or perhaps not, as <em>Okaasan</em> slipped another piece of pork to the dog while winking at Viktor, who winked back as Minako rolled her eyes, their conversation never faltering. Yuuri shook his head to clear it. He didn’t know whether to be relieved that <em>Okaasan</em> had deflected Minako or worried that they were tag-teaming their attack. Either way, he slowed his pace as he walked into the dining room, trying to catch his breath.</p>
<p>Viktor was jabbering away, but as soon as he noticed Yuuri coming close, he crowed, “Yuuri!” smiling wide and waving excitedly, as if Yuuri wasn’t already headed his way. Yuuri felt the little bubble of happiness in his chest expand.  </p>
<p>“I got everything to your room. You want to head up there?” Yuuri asked, hoping to get Viktor away from Minako as soon as possible. Who knew what she’d told him.</p>
<p>Viktor stood, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Let’s go!” He walked to the edge of the table, a little too close to the edge for Yuuri’s comfort, in fact, and raised his arms like a child asking to be picked up, beaming up at Yuuri.</p>
<p>Yuuri reached down and Viktor grabbed his thumb to steady himself as Yuuri cupped his other hand and lifted Viktor’s doll-like body, both of them already used to the routine. Then Yuuri remembered he was a little sweaty and could probably use another shower. Instead of putting Viktor in his shirt pocket, he held him rather awkwardly, away from his chest with Viktor seated on the edge of his palm. Viktor raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, simply turning in Yuuri’s grasp until he was more comfortable.  </p>
<p><em>Okaasan</em> smiled and cooed, making Yuuri’s flush with embarrassment. Miraculously, Minako remained quiet, steadily sipping her sake while she took everything in with her razor-sharp stare. Yuuri dreaded the moment she got him alone and picked him apart; he’d definitely be avoiding the studio for a few days. He gave a short, careful bow to both women, thanking his mother and excusing himself while Viktor called out, “Goodnight!”</p>
<p>They headed for the hall to the family quarters, Viktor looking around curiously at everything along the way, Yuuri stepping cautiously, even more afraid of dropping Viktor while carrying him in his hands, Makkachin at his heels. They reached the top of the stairs without incident, and Yuuri showed Viktor to his room. Viktor took it all in with wide eyes and must have noticed how his mountains of boxes nearly filled the space.</p>
<p>“Wow! What a classic, tiny room! Is there a sofa?” Viktor asked as Makkachin left them thoroughly investigate the room.</p>
<p>“No…I’m sorry it’s so small. We only had an unused banquet room available. But once you’re back to normal, you can unpack and put everything away. That whole wall is closets.” Though he’d begun to get used to the idea, just a little, the words felt surreal leaving Yuuri’s mouth: <em>the Viktor Nikiforov</em>, unpacking and settling in to stay.</p>
<p>Viktor just nodded along, looking thoughtful as he looked around the room. Then he glanced back to Yuuri and frowned for a split second before saying, “You look anxious.”</p>
<p>Yuuri just stared at him blankly. He probably always looked anxious. He nearly always felt anxious, unless he was too busy or tired to feel much of anything. Curiously, since Viktor had shown up and tilted Yuuri’s world on its axis, his anxiety had stayed as low-level background noise. Much like the quiet sound of Makka snuffling at the <em>tatami.</em> Well, Viktor had certainly kept him busy.</p>
<p>Viktor winked, then continued cheekily, “You can pay the coaching fees after you achieve success! I’ll bill you later.”</p>
<p>Yuuri laughed a little incredulously. Viktor sounded so sure he <em>would</em> achieve success. And while Yuuri's anxiety was held at bay for the moment, he wasn’t so confident he could win anything, let alone enough to be considered successful. He looked around, ready to change the subject, and noticed the bedding piled on one of the boxes. “Are you ready to get settled in for the night?”</p>
<p>As soon as the words left his mouth, Yuuri realized they couldn’t go their separate ways. He couldn’t leave Viktor to his own devices in there the banquet room, not as he was; who knew what could happen to him in his defenseless state. Not to mention his cavalier attitude toward his defenseless state. Yuuri would never hear him yell for help from his own room and Viktor might not even be able to use his phone.</p>
<p>Maybe Viktor was thinking the same thing, because he said, “Yuuri, let’s sleep together.” But then he continued, “As your coach, there’s so much I need to learn about you,” and the tone of his voice, the way he looked up at Yuuri, like he was trying to be the suave Viktor from the <em>onsen</em>, made Yuuri think he was just being his flirty self instead.</p>
<p>But…Viktor was right. He shouldn’t be alone, and Yuuri couldn’t burden his family with this decidedly odd turn of events that was somehow his fault, wonderful and terrifying as it was. They should sleep in the same room. And Yuuri would prefer his own bed to camping out on the banquet room floor.</p>
<p>“Okay,” he agreed, nodding and turning to walk the short distance to his room, and Viktor’s face lit up with a huge, heart-shaped smile in response. Yuuri thought quickly. He could put together a makeshift bed, surely, maybe even out of his clothes, and put it…on the floor, where he usually put his glasses? That way he wouldn’t inadvertently step on his tiny idol… He pushed open the door to his room, trying to work through the logistics, only to be greeted by his idol’s face.</p>
<p>Multiple versions of it, in fact.</p>
<p>A delighted gasp sounded from Viktor as Yuuri shrieked and spun around, hopefully blocking the posters from view. He couldn’t slam the door shut without risking dropping Viktor but oh, how he wanted to.</p>
<p>“I knew you were a fan, but wow, Yuuri, so many posters! I can’t see them all, but which one is your favorite? I think my favorite is—”</p>
<p>Yuuri groaned, wishing he could bury his flaming face in his hands and hide. “Just-just pretend they aren’t there, okay?”</p>
<p>Viktor huffed a little but stayed silent—Yuuri’s mortification must have been even worse than he realized—and Yuuri turned, entering his room. He set Viktor down on the desk to share his thoughts. Viktor nodded along, sneaking glances at the posters and looking pleased with himself as Yuuri explained that he’d agreed since he didn’t think it was a good idea for Viktor to sleep alone in his room, until Yuuri got to his brainstorming about sleeping arrangements.</p>
<p>Viktor immediately protested sleeping on the floor. “It will be so hard! Bad for my back and my joints, and what if you <em>do</em> accidentally step on me? I think I should sleep in your bed!”</p>
<p>“I think I’m much more likely to roll over and squash you if you sleep in my bed. And what if you fall off? That’s why I don’t want you up on the chair or the desk.”</p>
<p>“But Yuuuuuriiiii,” Viktor whined long and loud, “It will be cold on the floor. And I’m so small, I won’t be able to stay warm!”</p>
<p>“You looked just fine sleeping on the dining room floor with Makkachin to keep you warm.”</p>
<p>Viktor pouted, looking like he was trying to think of another reason why he should sleep in Yuuri’s bed, when Makkachin hopped up on the item in question, circling to make herself at home. “See! Makka always sleeps in my bed at home. She won’t be happy sleeping on the floor either and will abandon me for you and I’ll freeze to death.” Viktor looked up at Yuuri with big, blue, pleading puppy-dog eyes.</p>
<p>He had a point. It was cold, especially for April, with that freak snowstorm, and Viktor was so small, he’d barely generate any body heat, and Yuuri didn’t have the heart to kick Makkachin out of the bed; Vicchan had always slept with Yuuri, too.</p>
<p>Yuuri sighed, wavering, and Viktor pounced on his hesitation. “I can sleep on your pillow! Or next to it. That way I’m up by your head and you can hear me better and you’ll be less likely to squish me!”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay, you win. You can sleep on my pillow,” Yuuri agreed begrudgingly.</p>
<p>Viktor smiled, rather smugly, yelling, “Yay!” with a double fist pump.</p>
<p>Yuuri rolled his eyes at the display and started getting ready for bed. Viktor stared unabashedly while Yuuri stripped, chortling as he did so. “It’s only fair; you’ve already seen me completely naked, Yuuri!” Viktor’s voice lowered to a purr. “In fact, I think you should take those off, too,” he said, glancing meaningfully at Yuuri’s boxer briefs, a seductive smirk on his face and heat in his eyes as he tilted his head back so he looked at Yuuri from under his lashes, running a hand down the long, slender column of his neck all the way down his chest, just under the collar of his robe.</p>
<p>Yuuri snorted, slipping on his sleep pants, and Viktor’s head snapped up as his expression tightened. “Viktor. Even if that would work on me, we can’t do anything about it.” He gestured between them and raised a brow, pointing out the obvious size difference, leaving out how that <em>would</em> work on him, how just about anything would coming from Viktor.  </p>
<p>Viktor grinned at him rather lasciviously, licking his lips. “Oh Yuuri, you have no idea just how…<em>creative</em>…I can be.”</p>
<p>Yuuri laughed out loud at that and tugged on his t-shirt. “You’re ridiculous.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s face fell, and he looked as if he actually was disappointed for a split second before his affected pout was back and he opened his mouth to speak. But Yuuri just looked at him, smiling a little, and reached toward the silly little man. Viktor held on as Yuuri carried him a few short steps across the room, setting him gently on the pillow scooted over to the wall and handing him another well-worn t-shirt as a blanket. Then he turned down his own blankets and shooed Makkachin to the foot of the bed. He made sure Viktor was settled, then turned off the light and slipped under the covers, setting his glasses on the floor beside him.</p>
<p>Makkachin warmed his feet, soft snores already drifting up from her end of the bed. Viktor was so close Yuuri could hear his little breaths slow and even out, much more quickly than Yuuri had imagined, half expecting more getting to know you questions or another nonsensical attempt at seduction. He really must have been drained by the day. Yuuri was, too, though he figured he’d be too keyed up to fall asleep, too worried about accidentally squashing Viktor, too likely to slip into an anxious cycle of thoughts. But their sleepy noises were comforting and he soon drifted off, the bubble of happiness in his heart growing a little bigger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri woke slowly, as usual. He blinked up at the blurry ceiling, feeling warm and fuzzy, thinking about the very strange, very realistic dream he’d had. There was a freak snowstorm even though the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. But the craziest thing: Viktor Nikiforov was there! In Hasetsu! In the <em>onsen</em>! And his magic had interacted with the magic of the springs and shrunk him. Yuuri softly laughed to himself, happy that he’d had such an absurd dream that left him lighthearted instead of a nightmare.</p>
<p>But then a soft snuffling noise came from the foot of his bed, where his feet were warmer than usual. <em>Then</em> he realized not only were his feet warmer than usual, the entire right side of his body was warmer, paired with a steady thrum of magic that wasn’t his own. His eyes widened and he turned his head to the side to find a messy head of silver hair nestled into the crook of his neck. The living legend, Viktor Nikiforov, was right there, wedged into his twin bed.</p>
<p>Draped over Yuuri like a second blanket and twice as warm.</p>
<p>Just as naked as he’d been in the <em>onsen</em> if Yuuri’s blurry vision wasn’t deceiving him.</p>
<p>“Oh my God, it wasn’t a dream,” he muttered under his breath, barely holding himself back from the freakout that had never manifested the day before. Viktor shifted, snuggling even closer somehow, and Yuuri felt something that wasn’t Viktor’s legs or hips nudge his own. Yuuri’s blood suddenly didn’t know whether it should rush up to his face or stay in his own morning hardness. Viktor shifted again, grinding into Yuuri’s hip in his sleep. There was nothing small about that particular piece of Viktor’s anatomy, and Yuuri’s blood made up its mind. It was definitely, <em>definitely</em> staying where it was.   </p>
<p>A puff of breath wafted across Yuuri’s neck, making him shiver. Then Viktor yawned, mouth stretching open over Yuuri’s skin before he finally unburied his face. “Yuuri!” he said brightly. Yuuri just stared up at him, his eyes so close he could see them clearly, sparkling blue like the ocean on a sunny summer day. “Look Yuuri, I’m back to normal!” He paused, a thought visible flitting across his face as it flitted through his mind. “I wonder if I’ll shrink again. Do you know how it works, Yuuri?”  </p>
<p>Oh no. Viktor was a morning person. Yuuri just made a noise half between a moan and a grunt, a groan he supposed. He couldn’t think straight on a normal morning, much less one in which he woke up in bed with Viktor Nikiforov. He turned and planted his face in Viktor’s impressive chest.</p>
<p>Viktor squealed in delight, wrapping his arms around Yuuri, then his voice turned sultry as Yuuri’s hips brushed his. “Oh, Yuuri. I was a little worried last night—hah, little, get it?” The sexy voice vanished and he chuckled at his own stupid joke. It was too early for Yuuri to even crack a smile, though Viktor’s arms did feel quite nice around him. “But it looks like I didn’t have to worry after all.”</p>
<p>Yuuri just nodded into Viktor’s lovely pecs, feeling the hum of his magic under his skin, so much stronger than it was the day before.</p>
<p>“Yuuuriii,” Viktor crooned, his voice deepening once more and rumbling pleasantly along with the magic against Yuuri’s face. “Can I help you with that?” He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips.</p>
<p>Almost unable to believe what was happening, Yuuri just nodded again, staying exactly where he was.</p>
<p>Yuuri felt something at the crown of his head—did Viktor just kiss his hair? Then Viktor pushed him away and turned him over, back flat on the mattress, and Yuuri whined, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing an arm over his face at the sudden shift of light. Viktor just chuckled again and slid down his body, sliding Yuuri’s pants and boxers down as he went. Yuuri cracked one eye open just in time to see Viktor’s expression as he came face to face with his erection. Hazy as it was without his glasses, it was priceless. Viktor looked at his cock reverently, then fisted the base and looked up at Yuuri with those impossibly blue eyes as he licked a long stripe up the shaft.</p>
<p>Yuuri was certain he was still dreaming as Viktor slipped his tongue under his foreskin to circle the head of his cock with his tongue. Then tight, wet heat enveloped him, better than anything he’d ever felt, even in a dream, as Viktor took him into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked him down. Viktor moaned around him, sending vibrations through his oversensitive flesh, and Yuuri cried out at the sensation. Viktor was relentless, taking as much of Yuuri as he could between his lips, working the remainder with his hand, drooling all over his cock so the slide of his fist was slick and slippery.</p>
<p>“Ah, ah!” Yuuri couldn’t hold back his cries, his moans as Viktor picked up the pace, adding a twist of his wrist to swirl his palm around the head of Yuuri’s cock as he came all the way off, then swallowed him back down, again and again. Yuuri’s hips jerked helplessly, pushing his cock into the back of Viktor’s throat. Viktor moaned, sending delicious vibrations through Yuuri once more. One more bob of Viktor’s head, one more twist of his wrist, one more push into the back of his throat, Viktor swallowing this time, the muscles convulsing around Yuuri, and that was it. Yuuri shuddered as he came, flooding Viktor’s mouth until it dripped from the corners of his lips.</p>
<p>As he came down from the height of his climax, Yuuri was boneless, more relaxed than he’d ever been in his entire life. Viktor sucked softly until it became too much and Yuuri made a noise of protest, then he pulled off and left one last kiss to the head of Yuuri’s cock before sliding back up his body. Yuuri dazedly blinked up at him. Viktor was beautiful, always, but especially so there in Yuuri’s bed, limned in morning light.</p>
<p>Stricken by Viktor’s beauty, not to mention the early hour and the most fantastic first blowjob of Yuuri’s life, Yuuri’s throat worked for a moment before he croaked out, “Can I…?” and reached down toward Viktor’s cock.</p>
<p>A rosy flush spread over Viktor’s pale cheeks as he smiled sheepishly. “Ahh, I already took care of it. You were too hot to resist, coming undone under my mouth like that.”</p>
<p>Yuuri blushed, too, and hmm’d noncommittally.</p>
<p>“But…” Viktor trailed off, bringing his hand up to Yuuri’s face to cup his jaw and tilt it up, his intentions clear. “If you don’t mind?”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head minutely, then Viktor’s lips pressed against his own in a soft, sweet kiss. Yuuri could taste himself on Viktor’s mouth, salty, slightly bitter. Maybe that’s what he could have minded? But he didn’t. They shared a series of kisses before Yuuri pulled back and snuggled himself back into Viktor’s chest. As Viktor’s arms closed around him and he nuzzled into Yuuri’s hair, the bubble of happiness in Yuuri’s heart grew and grew, almost too big to contain. Then he felt the bubble burst and heard Viktor’s gasp as a tingling wave of Yuuri’s magic washed over them both, tangling and twining with Viktor’s.</p>
<p>Viktor murmured, “Yuuri,” sounding so soft and happy, so different from the Viktor he knew from interviews and brief brushes in competition. The magic settled quickly, and Yuuri realized he could now feel the steady hum of Viktor’s under his own skin, the beat of Viktor’s heart under his cheek echoing faintly in his own chest. Relaxed and happy, Yuuri slipped back to sleep right there in Viktor’s arms.                </p>
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